After
by Dragonflys-Girl
Summary: She hurried to the door and let out a big sigh of relief when she saw him staring back at her. He walked in slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. Postep: 02.02 P911


Title: After

Author: Cookie

Rating: PG

Category: Angst and Romance? What else?

Disclaimer: Don't own them. Don't sue please – not that they are going to "own" Elle for much longer… wails

Spoilers: Sort of post-ep for 02.02 P911; and then some from The Fisher King I & II

A/N: I HAVE to write about Morgan and Elle… HAVE to…

She screamed, and bolted up right in her own bed, her heart racing.

It had been the same pattern in her nightmares. The unsub had his gun pointed at her; she asked for him to calm down; Morgan broke down the door and the unsub shot him, in the head, before turning his gun over and shooting her as well. These nightmares never ended well for her.

Wearily, she tucked her now-short hair behind her ear and attempted to slow her breathing. It wouldn't do much for her plea to be returned to active duty early if Hotch or Gideon found out she was still haunted by vivid nightmares when she was left alone.

She moved to sit down in front of the vanity in her bedroom and really looked at herself. The shorter hair she now had made her looked different. She missed her longer strands, but she felt like she needed a change. She needed to purge herself of something from that horrid experience, and cutting her hair had been sort of a ritual of cleansing herself.

This was the first night she had truly been alone since IT had happened. In the past four months, she had rarely set foot inside this place. It didn't feel like a home anymore – the building obviously would feel different once sometime had tried to kill you in it, she weakly joked to herself.

The whole gang had been at the hospital the day she was released from the office, but the duty of getting her out fell to Morgan. When he stopped the car in front of her apartment building, he turned to look at her, but refrained from asking if she were alright. He knew what she would say, and he also knew it would be a lie.

She stepped out of the car after muttering her thanks and turned to face the building. He stayed in the car, watching her.

Twenty minutes later, she had a packed travel bag with her clothes and some other necessities and was rushing back onto the street, trying not to scream, not to break down., desperately looking for a cab to take her away.

He exited the car, then, and gently took her bag from her hand. Guiding her with tender, gentle moves, he buckled her in and drove away from the venue of her nightmare.

He did all of it without saying a word. She fell asleep while he drove. She felt safe with him.

She woke when she felt herself being lifted. Opening her eyes a crack, she realized Morgan had placed her gently on a soft bed.

"Sleep," he ordered gently. "I'll wake you when dinner's ready."

The next time she opened her eyes, she could smell pasta and tomato sauce. Morgan appeared in her room a moment later to tell her dinner was ready.

They chatted quietly during dinner that night, on anything but about work and about what had happened.

She had wondered where their relationship was heading at that time. They had taken the vacation to Jamaica together, hoping to see more about what the future might be like. She knew without a doubt, then, when she felt bile rising up her throat as he flirted with other women, that she felt way more than affection for partners or siblings toward Derek Morgan.

But then, her getting arrested and getting shot at either really sped up the process or destroyed what little they had.

As it was, they settled into a routine during her recovery. She would relax at his house – reading, writing, keeping Clooney company – while he worked. She would get dinner ready for him, and he would remember to call when he had to work late. He called every night if he had to be away for a case and the two would chat for a while.

After dinner, they would settle on the couch and Morgan would tell her of the latest office gossip and about everything and nothing. They would put in a movie and enjoy the peace and tranquility at his house.

At first, they kept their distance. A few weeks went by, and she was resting her head on Morgan's shoulder when she dosed off during the movie. A month and a half later, she was snuggling to his side – sometimes even sitting sideway across his lap, but his arms was also wrapped around her.

They started to do couple activities. He would take her to nice restaurants, to dates, to movies. They would o grocery shopping together and banter on what they needed to keep their kitchen stocked. She hadn't set foot out of his house on her own – she knew she couldn't, her energy level simply wasn't up for it.

They had shared kisses regularly, then. His hands were at the small of the back whenever they were out. He brought home flowers whenever he remembered.

There had not been a discussion about where this was going, about whether they were on the same page on how the relationship was going to go – they both knew and understood. It felt normal and calming and right to them.

Three months after she was released from the hospital, she had moved from his guestroom to his bedroom. She slept with his arms wrapped protectively around her. They hadn't gone to the next level, yet. Both were content with the level of intimacy they shared, and neither felt the need to rush into things – not when you planned to have an eternity to share the bond.

Today, she had headed back into the office even though she knew her leave wasn't up yet. She couldn't resist when she saw the text message and the longing to be back in the field, to make a difference. The same fire burning in her that made her join the bureau in the first place.

Hotch hadn't been too please with her decision. Reid had been worried. And Morgan had been furious. She could see it in his eyes the brief moments when their eyes met at the scene. He had refused to speak to her the whole time unless absolutely necessary.

That evening, when they were doing paperwork in the office, he kept his distance. Hotch and Gideon had lectured her about pushing herself too much and told her to take it easy with the threat of sending her home. JJ had welcomed her back with a gentle hug and a promise of a girls' night out once she felt good enough. Garcia had apologized profusely for her role in sending the unsub to his place. Derek Morgan had not even so much as glanced at her through all of it.

Reid was the first of the three to take off for the night. Soon, the bullpen was almost empty and they were left alone, just like they had been many times in the past. She waited, for him to acknowledge her finally, to say something, but she was again disappointed.

"I'm going," he announced and picked up his stuff to leave. No invitation to join her, no offer to wait for her, no mention of any plans for dinner. Nothing.

She drove by his place later, and his car was not in its usual spot and lights were off in the house. She didn't feel like she would be welcome back into his home, his sanctuary.

Instead, she drove to the closest Walmart got herself the things she'd need for the night. She still had some clothes in her apartment that she could wear for the next day. She would go and pack up her stuff from Morgan's later.

So far, her first night back by herself hadn't been going that great. She was still jittery, uneasy in what she had once called her own space. Her nightmares – those that had ceased after her first month from the hospital – had returned. And she missed him.

A knock at her door jostled her out of her thoughts, and she tensed up immediately and fumbled to get her gun from under her pillow. She tried to ignore the knocks, but it was persistent.

The ringing of her cell phone came as a great relief for her, and she eagerly reached for it.

"Open the door, Elle," came Morgan's voice through the phone.

"It's you?" she breathed a little easier knowing it was only Derek Morgan standing outside.

"Yea, just me," he confirmed and cut off the connection.

She hurried to the door and let out a big sigh of relief when she saw him staring back at her. He walked in slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I ... I thought – " she started.

"What were you thinking, Elle?" he cut her off and demanded. "What were you thinking, going back to the office, going out to the field like that? You're supposed to have another week of leave before you can return to desk duty! What were you trying to do?"

"I was getting restless, Derek," she countered. "I needed something – anything – to get my mind off that. I need to be useful. There was a little boy out there that needed help. I wasn't doing anything to exerting that I'd keel over because of that."

"No, but do you know how worried that made me? Do you know how hard it was for me to see you working yourself so hard like that? You just barely recovered from a gunshot wound that almost killed you."

"But I'm fine, aren't I?" she scooted over to take his hand in hers. "I am a special agent with the bureau, just like you, Derek. I take risks, just like you do – or maybe less, since I'm very rarely the first one to storm a place."

Morgan sigh. His arms went around her slender shoulder and pulled her closer to him. "Damn it, Elle. You have no idea how worried I was today when I saw you coming with Reid."

"Sorry," she muttered. She started to get more relax now that she could feel Morgan's warmth beside her. Even in her own apartment, on the spot where she had been shot, she felt safe.

"Promise me one thing, Elle. Don't do that to me again, alright? The next time you decide to do something, talk with me first. Let me know what you're thinking, talk with me. Don't just move ahead. I need to know. I need you to talk to me so I know what's going on, so I know that you're fine and are taking care of yourself. Don't have me worry like I did today."

She shifted in his arms and look at him better, "You weren't mad?"

"Oh, I was. But I was more worried than mad," he declared, raising her hands to his lips. "Promise?"

She simply nodded against him, "Promise."

"Good," he sighed again. "My house didn't feel right tonight when you weren't there."

"I was getting pretty unsettled here too."

"Nightmares?" he guessed and when she nodded, leaned over to kiss her forehead gently. "You alright?"

"I am now," she smiled. "You're here now."

He chuckled at her words. "I'm glad you feel this way."

"Why?"

"Do you know the look I got from Clooney today when I got home? It was almost the most pitiful puppy eyes in DC," Morgan shook his head with an amused smile. "I think he misses you because you're not home with him."

"He does?"

"Yeah, I think he does."

Reaching over, Elle leaned into his embrace and asked softly, "What about his master?"

Pulling away slightly, he looked directly into her eyes and saw the same emotions that seemed to be running in him to be reflected in her pools.

"Well, I'm sure he will miss you a lot if you continue to stay away too."

They smiled, and in that moment, that was enough.


End file.
